Age and Love

I have never thought Age matters. And yes, Age. Capitalized. I'm not an uneducated dipshit. (Just like cursing.) I was emotionally intelligent enough at age 9 to realize people are assholes, and even adults are asswipes. I was bullied. I stood up to the girl, and her mom confronted me, not my mom, me, and told me "If I hear you so much as speak to my daughter you will die slut." I didn't know what slut meant. But you know. Life goes on. I can't remember the girl's face, some chick from camp, but the woman's face is imprinted in my mind for life. See, you can be a bitch when you are 5. You can be a bitch when you are 10. You can be a bitch when you are 15. But the older you get, the less people tolerate it. Age has nothing to do with maturity. All it means is you are expected to not be an ass. The best people, I think, are those who talk to kids like a person. Not like "gootchie gootchie look at the giraffeywaffey." Not like "Did you see that magnificent specimen of Giraffa camelopardalis?" Like "Hey, look at the giraffe!"

On another topic, I FUCKING AM FUCKING GOING FUCKING IN FUCKING SANE. I can't stop thinking about this guy. Yes I know. Every girl is like this, get the fuck over it. But I'm not. I am very self conscious in the way that I hate it when other people judge me. That's why I'm so weird. I almost purposely aggravate the judgements so I can control their judgement of me. Or I just made that up. But probably not. But  I can't stop thinking about what he'd think of this outfit or what he'd say to this joke. I've missed him since break began, and I think I talked to him once at the beginning. I miss him so much so much. Sorry. I'm usually not this sentimental. Or am I? I mean, I have been lately. RAWRGH. Ok. Love rant done.